


Assorted drables

by huntingosprey



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: All my OC's are insane, Mission Insane challange, Size matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntingosprey/pseuds/huntingosprey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbels about my mad, bad and very, very crazy OC black ops team for the LJ Mission_Insane challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Spy

Character: Jazz   
Summary: Out on a mission Jazz muses on his job 

_Spy,_ Jazz stretched carefully, _a job that implies a life of constant excitement and danger;_ he froze as a rock bounced down the slope a yard from him. _Danger maybe_ He took a firmer grip on his gun _but they kind forgot ta mention the orns of sitting so still ya lock up._ He spotted the organic animal that had triggered the rock fall, _spyin’s mostly about not getting’ seen while ya try not ta die o’ boredom,_ laser fire splattered about him and he abandoned his watch and fled, _with moments o’ tryin’ not ta get killed by t’ other side!_


	2. Lonely in a crowd

Characters: Jazz   
Summary: Private thoughts on a hidden secret 

Lonely is not a word most mechs would use in describing me. Then most mechs don’t stop ta realise that I don’t, I can’t trust anymech. Not even Prime, hazard of being in ops ya learn the real hard way not ta trust casual acquaintances. And most o’ this lot I don’t know any better than that, so I dance round ‘em, smile at and laugh with ‘em. But the smile don’t reach ma optics, and inside ma head the laugh rings hollow, a beautiful irony that as the most sociable mech on th’ Ark I’m also the loneliest mech.


	3. Colors  of my life - Yellow

Characters: Jazz   
Summary: Jazz contemplates the significance of the colour of a scrap of ribbon 

The colour of rejoicing in one century, the colour of patient waiting in another, a colour of hope, of protest, of honour. The ragged torn end flutters bright in my hands, buttercup yellow, fading a bit now with age but still showing its true colour. 

I smile sadly at the memory of its giver, “I’ll keep it till those I wait for come home Prowl.” 

_And I’ll go with then_ I add silently _I’ve lost too much to stay here. Hope for tomorrow, protest at yesterday and maybe honour or one day true rejoicing?_ All held in a yellow ribbon


	4. Final fall

Characters: Boom   
Summary: Boom makes one last burning flight and the Riders move in to take revenge. 

They saw him _burn_ , so fast and steep was his fall; the darkness was banished by the light of his death. Like a meteor breaking up he shed his bomb load creating a trail of explosions that shook the air, raining one final shower of destruction upon those who had once been his faction mates. Those who were now his faction stood impassive and watched as his burning form went dark, then they stalked forward, in defiance of orders seeking vengeance for their bright, burning meteor who lived up to his name by bringing devastation to all who opposed him


	5. Encryption

Characters: Rib  
Summary: It was like a dance

His fingers danced over the keys, his mind totally focused on decoding the transmission. it was like a dance, two highly skilled professionals weaving round each other dipping and passing, never colliding one seeking to outsmart the other by some new twist or turn. The algorithms flowed across his screen and mind as he weaved between the safeguards, energon flowing faster as he sensed he was reaching his goal, his spark's tempo getting faster and faster until with a rush almost akin to overload he breached the last barricade and the data flow was open to him. Copying it to a file for later analysis he allowed himself a moments pause before moving on to the next challenge.


	6. Broody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Rib  
> Summary: Some days all a mech can do is brood
> 
> Note: When I talk about Rib letting his colors show it means that he's run a small charge through the paint of his kill and mission marks making them glisten wetly as a sort of non verbal "keep away if you want to live" sign.

He sat hunched over a cube of high grade in the back corner of the bar, gazing into the depths of the cube his mind less than half on his surroundings. a dangerous thing to do but he was showing his colours so the other patrons wisely left him alone. The past few orns replayed themselves endlessly in his CPU and he tried to workout what he could have done differently. he came to the conclusion that nothing he could have done would have prevented Sync's injuries. He gazed through the bottom of the cube, some times all a black ops mech could do was brood and he proceeded to do so to the limit of his abilities.


	7. Colors  of my life - Black

Characters: Rib  
Summary: Rib contemplates the colour of his armour

Black was such a versatile colour, fashionable, formal, slimming (Something a mech his size could always do with). You could blend in with the shadows or standout in the crowd, black was the perfect medium on which to write a message. Black was also the colour of mourning in many places, a reminder of death and destruction, of life ended, often by violence. 

He was an embodiment of all of these things, a conduit through which communication flowed, a dweller in the shadows, and to those who crossed him death incarnate. Yes, Rib mused as he lurked in the shadows, black was the right colour for him to be.


	8. Long life

Character: Shrike  
Summary: Shrike contemplates a special piece of organic life

Her fingers ghosted gently over the gnarled trunk, the air here was chilly but the tree was so warm with life she could almost hear it living. It felt familiar to be with an organic life form that was so young yet so old. A paradox that only trees could come to, a life that recorded so much in so short a time, little more than a optic cycle for her kind and yet unimaginable old on an organic scale. A comm. ping tore her from contemplation, a reverent bow and she was gone leaving Methuselah to grow in peace.


	9. Flickers of a former life

Characters: Shrike, Boom, Rib  
Summary: Shrike does something rather out of character for her.

Her glare silenced both mechs, the child curled up against her chest slept fitfully. Primus only knows why he felt safe enough with her to stop screaming and let them tend him but he had. A long suppressed impulse of compassion had flared and she’d found herself carting him about with her, talking to him, reassuring him until he’d fallen asleep on her. 

With significant looks seeker and frontliner fled, she sighed, silently cursing both mechs. She’d never hear the end of it, but neither looking down at the peaceful face of the child could she have done anything else.


	10. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character: Shrike  
> Summary: Shrike lets her vengful side loose. Mention of Character death
> 
> Note: Devastator and Assassin are Boom and TickTick's field names assumed to hide their real identity from everyone they might have to kill

She stalked through the fire and smoke. Although not as silent as Devastator or as skilled as Assassin, she passed undetected, optics searching for her prey. She wasn’t much of a fighter, but she had a medic’s knowledge that made up for the lack. Spotting her victim, recognisable from the many descriptions she’d heard she manoeuvred to get the best shot. The overpowered welder wobbled as it flew; hitting its target and starting to melt through his helmet. Vengeance accomplished she slipped away, it wouldn’t take him long to die, a mercy not many of his victims had been given.


	11. Colors  of my life - Red

Character: Shrike  
Summary: Shrike contemplate the colour of her armour and how useful it is given her jobs

Such a useful body colour red, especially when dealing with bleeding organics. Almost universally the colour of life it is perhaps the most ironic part of my current role, I am the bringer of pain and death. To these ones anyway, to others I am still the healer, two sides of the same credit and both blood red.

At least I am not a pale white stained with vivid red streaks, as any of my late organic colleagues would be by now. Such are the advantages granted by species and paintwork, yes red is a very useful colour to be


	12. Happiness is a hot gun

Characters: Sync  
Summary: A small moment of happines in the midst of chaos

The kick of the gun in his hand shivered up his arm plates and rattled the slightly loose joint in his shoulder. He threw back his head and laughed, here in the midst of chaos, that he had planned and was, mostly, in total control of he felt happy. The control of violence and the upsetting of another’s plans and schemes was the ultimate thrill for him, that even now vorns later was still intoxicating and new every time.

He heard the noise of battle shift and laughing strode through the chaos happily plotting the next move in the game


	13. A many feathered thing

Characters: Sync  
Summary: A stange thing has taken up residance in Sync spark, a many feathered thing called hope

It was an almost alien feeling this small flickering ember that whispered of a better tomorrow. His life had been focused on survival, firstly just his own and then later that of his team. If any of them fell he let them go, just one more death in war. But this warmth whispered in the dark depth of his spark that perhaps there was a reason for it, that maybe it wasn’t just a fruitless exercise in outlasting the other side. He still wasn’t sure what to do with it but at least he’d fond a name for it, hope


	14. Colors  of my life - Green

Characters: Sync  
Summary: Sync take some time out to think about the colour of his armour

Well more mud brown than green right now but it means I don’t have to worry about camo paint; in this madness don’t have the time for it. Ironic choice really, green. It’s supposedly a relaxing and refreshing colour the colour of plant life on earth, and here am I a killer and maker of chaos and inorganic all the way through. Still it’s a useful choice for a scout, an’ given how patchwork my plating is I blend in better then most. Speaking of which, time to put that effect to good use and take out that sniper nest.


	15. Joy

Character: TickTick  
Summary: Sometimes the best thing in life is the open road

She whooped and fishtailed across the dirt track as Sanctuary disappeared behind the horizon. After far too many orns stuck aboard the ship she had the open skies above her and the road under her wheels.

The miles rolled under her at speed as she sped on towards her destination, burning off the energy she’d built up during her confinement. As committed as she was to The Riders nothing was better than to be in motion, it didn’t matter where to or why but just to be travelling was a joyful thing and she indulged in it to the full.


	16. Not what I appear

Character: TickTick  
Summary: Tick wares many masks in the course of her job, this is just one more.

 

Her target was looking at her again so she dropped her optics with to the small cube of mid-grade on the table before her, bending over the datpad of notes. The target moved towards her and she consciously tensed up as he came up to her, faking shyness to get and keep his interest. 

"Come with me," Her target pleaded "you spend all your time working, you deserve a break."

She stalled a bit longer before acquiescing, as they left the bar she felt relief wash over her, alerting the Riders of the immanent action she thought to herself, _just tonight to endure and then I can stuff this shy over worked doormat back in her box and forget her._


	17. Colors  of my life - Blue

Character: TickTick  
Summary: Tick muses on the colour of her armour

It was strange really how humans associated colour with emotions and feelings. Blue was a cold colour here, “She’s as cold as ice that one” a nameless human had said of her.

By the strangest coincidence it was true; she was a cold calculating killer; she’d been sparked and trained to be that way. Blue was the colour of the cold and she was coldness personified, not the sharp fresh cold that brought colour to a humans cheeks or the crisp clean cold of a deep winter night, she was the eternal coldness of the void and the death she brought to those she stalked.


	18. Pink

Characters: Jazz   
Summary: Jazz is saved by people painting the town pink in welcome 

Pink was okay Jazz thought as he sped along but right now he was leaking far too much of it. The stream of liquid finally slowed but did not stop dripping from him splashing onto the ground in bright patches leaving a visible trail for those following him. 

Not for the first time did curse the fact that energon was vivid pink, rounding a corner he came to an abrupt halt. All along the street people were painting their houses and the paint was splashed across the road, he suddenly loved this Indian custom of really painting the town pink and dove into an alleyway watching in satisfaction as his pursuer raced on missing his trail under all the paint. Sometimes he loved pink.


	19. Orange

Characters: Boom   
Summary: The afterglow of another job well done 

Fire light flickered across the jagged remains of the building, bright, hungry flames licked at the base of his perch, finding their reflection in his copper optics as he surveyed the devastation he had caused. The place was silent now, the fury of its destruction subsiding into the crackle and roar of flames. 

One of the few other standing spires fell in a rush sending sparks high into the sky, and he watched entranced as the fire dance bright and fierce in the darkness. He felt his pinnacle tremble and dropped into space, transforming. Firing his engines, he flew low playing one last game with the orange flames that marked the end of this platoon of Decepticons.


	20. Confusion

Characters: Hell Riders   
Summary: Somethings got the Riders totally confused and rushing around in disorder. 

Chaos was the only word to describe the situation, utter and total chaos. Orders where shouted, countermanded and ignored in the babble, bodies collided with one another. The quarry made a mad dash deeper into the ship and they tumbled after it in an undisciplined mob, no one had a plan of action, it was a hunt pure and simple, a chase that would end in death or capture. 

They found their prey trapped between two generators, small than them he was able to dodge the grabbing hands and flailing limbs as they all piled into the space trying to grab him. Jazz gave a cry of triumph and gently held the squirrel, the cause of all the confusion safely contained once more.


	21. Collateral damage

Characters: Scan, Rib  
Summary: The aftermath of a battle leave Scan with feeling sad about one particular casualty of war.

 

He contemplated the fragment of burnt plating looking at the crazing on it she never felt it, thank Primus for that mercy.

A shadow cut off the meagre light and he looked up to see Rib standing in the door, “I’m sorry; I know how much she meant to you.”

He nodded at the comms specialist and muttered, “We’re at war, casualties are inevitable.” A true statement but it didn’t sooth the ache under his spark.

He stepped closer to the burnt out custom engine whispering to it “Ah well old girl, it was fun but let’s see what salvageable.”


	22. Colors  of my life - White

Characters:   
Summary: Scan muses on just how ill suited the colour of his armour is

White, stupid colour for a mech like me to be painted, ya know how hard it is to keep clean when you’re up to ya elbows in oil and grease every day? 

And as if that weren’t enough humans have some dumb idea about white being associated with goodness and purity. *snort* I’m neither, ain’t been for more vorns than I care ta remember neither.

My creators really got the wrong idea when they decided on white; still its helpful people kinda assume stuff about me that isn’t true, and some of em even live ta regret it as well.


	23. I shall wear purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well technically triple as the second one turned out to be exactly 200 words not 100.
> 
> I have no idea where/how/when the commander of my black ops team even found I shall wear purple but he rather likes the idea and reckons that being as old as Kup gives him the right to throw over all the ideas about purple and live a little. He is a cantankerous, sly and under hand old geezer and insisted I scribble this out on the train tonight and then got very miffed when it was to long to count for my mission_insane purple drabble so you get to see both versions. Personally I think the longer one works better.

_How old is old enough to be allowed to wear purple?_ Sync wondered as the meeting droned on.

He started searching for transformer sized hats. Some eager young mech rambled on about supplies making him think of blowing credits on illegal distillations of high grade and outrageously rich energon treats. He would shrug off the commander image and indulge in a little hell-raising of his own. He nibbled his stylus mid hat sketch; a change of paint job was in order here, just to give fair warning.

Rising to his feet to give his report he thought _purple wearing practise time_

\------  
Take 2  
\------

 _How old is old enough to wear purple?_ Sync wondered as the meeting droned on around him.

He started a sneaky search for transformer sized hats, in purple preferably. As some eager young mech rambled on about supplies he thought longingly of blowing credits on illegal distillations of high grade and energon treats so rich they could feed a unit for cycles. Oh the benefits of being old enough to wear purple! He could tell the mech further up the food chain where to go and what to do once they got there. 

_Well_ he corrected himself _tell them plainly._

He could throw off the controlled commander image, disclaim any responsibility for his pack of hellions and indulge in a little mayhem on his own account. He nibbled his stylus mid hat sketch, maybe he should get a new paint job, to give those with eyes to see it some warning. Prime looked at him indicating he was next up as the youngster sat.

He was grinning faintly as he stood. A grin that had his second in command looking at him with narrowed optics and an anticipatory grin of his own.

 _Purple wearing practise time_ he told himself as he began.


	24. Grey

Characters: Shrike   
Summary: Shrike does her job and considers the colour grey

She moved silently, methodically, without observable emotion about her task. After all, what was one more dead body in a war that had lasted so long? Inside however, the tiny voice, the last remnant of whom she had been raved and cursed at the extinguishing of another spark. She removed another section of plating and carried on the grisly task, all the time ignoring the voice and the images of long dead friends that kept flashing into her mind. She shut her audios to the sounds of screaming and the remembered pleas for mercy that this job always brought up. 

Task for the moment done she walked away muttering softly "I hate grey."


End file.
